Ice Fever Poem by Gene Orr

tomorrow the wind will flail and ravage
the sounds of violence and temper
the trees will swing boldly and strongly
and the branches will ache in banter

the storms inside the atmosphere
circle around us all like wolves
penetrating to all those in fear
stomping down sharp clipping hooves

the rain will swallow up all of the cold
and turn in to your direction
hail and snow will begin to unfold
and ruin your pretty erection